Come Back To Where You Are: Reality as Fertile Ground for Your Writing

A brainstorming exercise to keep you unstuck. Plus, a class announcement!

You are receiving this newsletter because somewhere along the way you signed up to get it in your inbox and I am grateful. Please do drop a heart, it helps enormously for other people to find my work. Also please consider subscribing for free or paid. Thank you for reading.

Photo by Laura Chouette on Unsplash

---

Class Announcement: We’re Reading Bird by Bird

Before we get to the meaty part of this newsletter, I have an announcement.

The next class for paid subscribers begins on Friday, May 30th and continues through the last Friday in June, the 27th. Five sessions devoted to discussing…

Bird by Bird!

This writing instruction guide by Anne Lamott is a classic. First published in 1994, it’s full of helpful advice related in an accessible, funny manner by the beloved author. One of my writing friends told me she’s already got highlighting and notes throughout the entire book and can’t wait to discuss it. I’m excited, too. Through my years of teaching I’ve assigned the book many times and students have always thanked me.

Here’s how the class works:

On Tuesdays, I post my thoughts on the chapters I’ve designated for you to read and give students ideas to ponder. Then on Fridays, we meet at 11 AM Pacific to discuss over zoom. (And the class will be recorded.)

Buy the book here:

Amazon

Bookshop

Note—I’m working off the 25th anniversary edition, which is the one listed in both links above. If you’re buying now, I recommend getting that same edition, too, so that we’ll all be on the same page, haha. But if you already own a different copy, feel free to use it.

And for those of you ready to get going, your assignment for week one is to read up to page 41, through the Polaroids chapter. (Of course you can keep going if you want, but these are the pages we will discuss.) The chapters are short and quick to read, so no excuses. And expect to hear me talk a lot about Shitty First Drafts and Short Assignments on the 30th.

Class Access

So how, pray tell, do you get access to this class?

All you have to do is become a paid member. (Those of you are already are at a paid level, you are all set.) Hit that upgrade to paid button and select your desired option. But wait, there’s more.

In honor of this upcoming class, and to allow as many people as possible to take it, I am running a special on annual memberships. I normally price them at $80 a year. But for the next three weeks, until the class starts, they will be only $48, good for one year. That’s 40% off, people!Here’s the link for that offer. (Ends June 28.)

I look forward to seeing you at our gathering on June 27th and discussing this wonderful book.

And now, to the writing exercise.

---

Come back to where you are

Last week in my brainstorming through blocks post, I wrote this: Come back to where you are. As in, write about where you are right here, right now. Your immediate surroundings, all the sensory images you’re getting. This is a way of grounding yourself and also remembering to anchor your writing in specific detail. And it can weirdly spark fab new ideas.

And I knew that I wanted to write a longer post about that process. So here we go. This newsletter is about a way to get unstuck, hopefully quickly, when you’re writing along and suddenly….everything skids to a halt and you don’t know where to go next.

Here’s where:

Come back to where you are.

Right here, right now. Where are you? I’ll tell you where I am as I writing this. I’m in the family room of my daughter’s house (attached to my own home by a connecting door). My four-year-old grandson has just created a nest for himself in a large blue plastic tub, with three gray pillows and a quilt a dear friend made for him at his birth. Now that I think about it, the quilt was made for one of his older brothers. But never mind. Tucker is wearing grey pajamas with neon green and yellow dinosaurs on them. And green socks with dinos on them, too. Yes, you have detected a theme here.

The TV is on and we are watching Cocomelon. (Gag me now.) The characters on the show are all trying new things. And then they sing: “About to do something new, I know I can do it, yes, yes, yes.” This will be an ear worm for the next 3.5 days at the very least. A minute ago Tucker was sitting in his nest, now we are having a sock fight and I smell faint dirty feet. Outside it’s sunny and still. When I can tune out Cocomelon, I hear an airplane overhead.

If I were working on my novel, I’d be at my desk with a completely different view. And if I got stuck in the middle of the scene, I’d stop, take a few breaths, look around, and write about what’s in front of me, just like I did above. Sometimes just taking that kind of pause gives your brain enough of a rest to carry on. But if it doesn’t, I often find that focusing on the sensory details of where I am in the moment does. Maybe that color green sparks an idea for an image which in turn sparks an idea for a new setting and then my character comes to life in that setting. You might well be surprised what comes out if you write down what’s in front of you, right here, right now.

Grounding yourself gives you sparks to write about. And this little exercise can take as long or as short as needed. One sentence may get you going again. Or you might want to take longer. It might give you an idea for another scene, or a completely different story. And even if you write at the same place every day, challenge yourself to notice something different. Or go deeper into describing an object you see on the daily. What color would you call that mug you keep your pens in? And is it ceramic or porcelain? Suddenly you remember that you bought it that time you were visiting wine country with friends and after, um, a visit to a couple of tasting rooms you had to have it even though it was ruinously expensive for a common mug.

If you don’t have a mug in front of you, you can write about this one. So much to unpack here. Photo by Summer Rune on Unsplash

Stopping to pause can also help you notice. It can assist you to catch glimmers, those brief little moments of happiness that pass us by if we’re not paying attention. The white blossoms on my neighbor Bryan’s dogwood tree. The beautiful nearly-neon green of the fresh Spring growth on the hedge that lines our driveway. The unexpected quiet of a late afternoon.

So that’s my writing exercise for the week, and it’s about the easiest one you’ll ever experience because all you have to do is pause and notice. I hope it’s helpful for you.

---

I’m heading to London on Saturday, for four night there and then a trip down to Somerset for our England writing workshop. I’ll have this Sunday’s love letter posted ahead of time, and I hope to write another one while there. As for these Thursday pieces, I’m setting up two oldies but goodies.

See you on Sunday. Love you all.